


and the wake-up is calling me home

by whispersbabe



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil, Andrew Minyard - Freeform, M/M, Neil Josten - Freeform, Neil's past still haunts him, Post-TKM, but he has found a home, domestic andreil, kevin day (mentioned) - Freeform, proteam Andrew and Neil, the cats are amazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 05:49:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12550556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whispersbabe/pseuds/whispersbabe
Summary: Neil's past won't let him go completely but when he runs, which he will always need to, he has Andrew and cats and a home to return to.





	and the wake-up is calling me home

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer this was written mostly as an exercise to drag me out of a writing slump. feedback is appreciated nonetheless!
> 
> title is from aquilo - calling me

When Neil woke up in an unfamiliar room his first thought was run. Every nerve ending in his body was screaming for him to flee the foreign space. He was on his feet in a flash, grappling for his duffle. He didn’t have a gun or a knife, but he knew if a fight arose — which it often did—he could fight with his fists if he needed to. His heart was pounding a desperate rhythm, all he knew was _fear_  and _flee_  and _Wesninski_. He came up fruitless for his bag but he could see a door in front of him. He sent a silent prayer to some ethereal force that it was unlocked and made for it, but before he got there his attention was drawn to a quiet, steady noise coming from the mattress he had just leapt from. It was undeniably snoring, which abruptly cut off and was followed by a groggy and inquisitive, 'Neil?'

At that exact moment, a ball of fur fled past Neil and leapt onto the bed. Sir Fat Cat McCatterson settled himself contentedly into the spot Neil had previously occupied, now motionless and emitting a gentle purr.

Neil halted in his tracks, perplexed, and looked up at the blond muss of hair and tired hazel eyes in the bed.

Andrew was watching him with a blank expression. 'Rabbit.' he commented.

Neil only heard him as an echo, but his mind slowed enough that it clicked with him that the unfamiliar bedroom was the room he shared with Andrew in their new home, the first that belonged officially to them both together, and that this was their first night here.

These were facts that his brain could understand, but his body didn't because it still thrummed with the need to flee. It was running through him, propelling him forward, not allowing him to consider what was happening.  
His knee-jerk reaction to unfamiliarity was something he could think about later; right now he had to go.

Legs trembling he walked to the door, shoving it open roughly. ‘I’m going for a run.’ was all the explanation he gruffly provided Andrew before exiting into the hall.

Their new place was decent, he thought. It was more spacious than either of their apartments which they had alternated between in the years before Neil joined Andrew in his New York exy team. It wasn’t a forever home and it wasn't perfect, but its cityscape views and the respectable building it was apart of suited them for now, especially considering it was within fifteen minutes of the stadium that housed their exy court.

The living-room/kitchen was littered with half-unpacked boxes, further evidence of the life that he was living now. It struck Neil that almost a decade ago, he had been a freshman Fox who’s every belonging could fit into a duffle. Now his and Andrew’s shared belongings needed boxes, labels and multiple trips in order to get them from one place to another.

That thought didn't calm his pounding nerves any, so he grabbed a jacket poking out of a box he absently noted was labelled ‘CLOTHES-ANDREW’, slipped on a pair of runners placed by the door and hurdled out of their apartment, took the stairs to the ground floor in leaps and didn't slow down until the sun had fully risen.

-

When Neil returned, sweat-soaked and exhaustion washing over his body in waves but nerves finally settled, he found Andrew perched on a box in the living room, two cups of coffee on the floor at his feet. He was entertaining Sir with a shoelace, tormenting the cat as he attempted to grab at the string in vain.  
When Andrew heard Neil walk in, he allowed Sir to take the string from him which he did with great satisfaction, rolling around their grey-carpeted living room with the type of joy only a kitten could display.

Andrew did not move from the box, but stared at Neil with eyebrows raised. ‘It's eight am. Your little episode woke me up at five.’ he stated, matter of fact. He wasn't angry, he wasn't looking for explanation. He was telling Neil that he had been out for three hours, that Andrew had waited. In a way, this was how Andrew said, ‘I’m here, it’s okay, I understand.’ and Neil was grateful. He couldn't offer explanation, and he knew Andrew would not allow him to apologise.

He simply took the coffee that Andrew had made him and sat on a box to face his boyfriend, life partner, constant antagonist in his far-fetched story of a life. Whatever Andrew was, right now all Neil needed him to be was there.

‘We should really get some proper chairs.’ Neil noted, unsure of what else to say.

Andrew didn't respond, Neil knew that he wouldn't. He didn't want explanation from Neil, but he didn't want want idle chat either.

They sat in silence for a minute, two, watching Sir play with his shoelace on their carpet until he eventually got bored and wandered off, tail in the air, in search of something soft to curl up in.

Andrew directed his gaze back to Neil, not as blank as it once had been but still unreadable. Sometimes, Neil had begun to notice, his eyes would flash with something, his lips might twitch minutely, his features would soften for a fraction of a second. To Neil's utter shock, this usually happened on the court. Once, their New York team had played Kevin’s. It had come down to a single goal, and in a desperate last-ditch attempt to pull ahead Kevin shot a goal at Andrew, which Andrew deflected with a bored ease that Neil knew would infuriate Kevin, but he hadn't been looking at his opponent striker. Because for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, Neil swore that Andrew had laughed. Not in the malicious, twisted way he laughed while on his medication. Not the faint huff of breath he occasionally gave either, but a true and joyed laugh that rang in Neil's ears to this day.

It had never happened again, but Neil was sure it was Andrew.

Now, there was no trace of anything on Andrew's face. He drank his coffee habitually and studied the man opposite him and Neil allowed him, content to be in silence.

Eventually Andrew broke it, ‘I love my jacket, by the way,’ he commented, mocking, nodding to the jacket Neil had grabbed on his way out.

It was indeed Andrew's, as the box had promised and Neil hadn't really noticed. Neil also hasn't realised that the jacket was white, lined with a vivid orange that reminded Neil of home. A crest on the side read ‘Andrew Minyard, #3. FOX GOALKEEPER’

‘I didn't know you even still had this,’ Neil said, surprised.

Andrew shrugged, ‘It’s fleece-lined. And now it reeks of sweat. Who takes a jacket running, anyway?’ he sneered. Neil rolled his eyes and stood, pulling off the jacket and thrusting it at Andrew.

‘Wash it, then. I’m going for a shower.’

Neil didn't hear Andrew following him to the bathroom, but he heard the knock on the shower door followed by a questioning, ‘Neil, yes or no?’.

Neil opened the shower door and stepped aside with a smile that wasn't returned.  
-

Earlier-than-wanted morning runs, nightmares and fight-or-flight reactions were a part of their life together they were still learning to cope with, but at the end of it all if nothing else they could offer three words which sought permission, implied understanding and allowed for little comforts. They could offer eachother, or they could give space for as long as it was required.

His past would always be there, Nathan and Nathanial, scars and bruises and a cold sweat in the night. It clung to him like a blanket and sometimes it choked him until he had to run or he would stop breathing, like last night.  
Every day that he spent with Andrew, who wasn't the emotionless sociopathic criminal people believed him to be, and the cats, who provided companionship and domesticity and served as proof that he had responsibilities and a home, the grip his past had on him loosened.

This was a home, something he was still learning not to run from.

This was all Neil needed.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> promo: follow me on twitter @exyminyards!


End file.
